


Onions

by onereyofstarlight



Series: Fluffember Prompts 2019 [8]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Onions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereyofstarlight/pseuds/onereyofstarlight
Summary: Virgil chops up some onions and it pretty much goes exactly as you'd expect.
Series: Fluffember Prompts 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606219
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Onions

It starts so slowly, Virgil thinks he may have escaped this time. He’s thinking over his actions leading up to this moment, this shining and glorious moment where he is without pain.

A twinge in his eye, so innocuous that Virgil thinks nothing of lifting a hand to gently dab at whatever has gotten caught in the corner of his eyelid.

Only to bring his hand back down to pick up the onion he was grating and stare in horror as he comprehends exactly what he had just done.

It still doesn’t hurt, there’s just a constant prickling across his eyes and Virgil can feel them welling up, can’t help but press the backs of his folded hands to his eyes to wipe away the tears, only that makes everything even _worse_.

It’s all fairly downhill from there. He keeps scrubbing frantically at his eyes with his fingers, never mind the gases that’s seeped into his skin and is making acid of its own. All that matters is that the stinging stops, that his eyes stop burning. He just wanted to make a lasagne. He grabs at the hanging tea towels and growls as they handle the seeping tears just fine but do nothing to alleviate the cutting pain in his eyes. Virgil gives up any pretense of dignity, dropping the tea towels to the floor and stumbling over to the sink, leaning over so his face is somewhere underneath the tap. His hand scrabbles to turn on the flow and he yelps as hot water strikes his eyes, jerking back as he blindly flips the tap over to cold.

At this point, Virgil can’t wait and he’s practically throwing water over his eyes and it’s not enough because his eyes are still burning.

He blinks several times, forcing his eyes open in a squint. It was time for drastic measures. The tap is still running freely as he snatches up a glass and thrusts it into the stream. He’s squeezed his teary eyes shut again but he can feel the water running over the edge and so he bends his head down, places the glass over his right eye and forces it open.

The relief nearly takes him to his knees. Carefully, deliberately, he closes his eye and forces it open again, diluting the acid that’s formed in the thin layer of moisture over his eye. He’s still blinking rapidly into his glass of water, alternating between his eyes when he hears a noise behind him.

Blearily he peers at the bright splash of colour that has invaded his vision.

“Virgil?”

Gordon looks around the kitchen in some kind of inspired awe. A mushy pile of onion sits proudly on the chopping board where the grater had been knocked over. Water coats every surface in sight and every tea towel has been thrown to the floor. Virgil himself looks half drowned, his hair flattened in every direction and his eyes are mere slits in his face.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t invite your own brother to your personal pool party,” Gordon says with a grin that Virgil can’t see. He can hear it however.

So, Virgil does the reasonable thing and glares at his brother. Or rather two feet behind him. His bloodshot eyes gives him a wild look about him. Gordon backed away slowly.

“I’ll give you a pool party,” said Virgil, stepping forward threateningly.

Gordon retreats, laughing as Virgil trips his way outside and follows him. He dives into the pool with a running start and quickly swims out of Virgil’s way as he jumps in after him.

Virgil sighs internally at the sensation of water over his sensitive eyes and blinks several times as he floats.

“Should have done that ten minutes ago,” he murmurs. “Thanks Gordon.”

“Anytime, bro,” says Gordon with a grin. “Should have just skipped the onions.

Virgil won’t tell Gordon, but he can’t help but agree.

**Author's Note:**

> Crosspost from Tumblr. Original posted on 15/11/2019. Fills Day 5 prompt: Cry
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
